Lyrics Can-O-Corn - Coolio

Back in the days, when I was a young buck
Stuck like a truck gettin' shit outta luck
Times was rough and I didn't have a plan
I was barely on the edge of my life as a man
It's really fucked up when there's dope in the crib
No food in the kitchen for the motherfuckin' kids
That's why a young nigga learned how to steal, see
Shopliftin' laid me a whole lotta meals

But I remember days when the cupboard was bare, and
Life was unfair, but who the fuck cares?
I still hear mama, what she used to tell me
That you don't get shit in this life for free
And even if I never ever make it to the mountain top
Fuck it, I fight for my hip-hop

Not everybody can relate to what I been through
Even though some front, and they try to pretend to
Know about the life of a kid and the strife
Where he has to live in the shadow of a base-pipe

Good goes to bad, bad goes to worse
And pretty soon he's stealing from his own mama's purse
So clean out ya ears and open up your eyes
I reach out to touch, but somebody moved the sky
My stomach is growlin', word is born
'Cause all I had for dinner was a can-o-corn

A can-o-corn, a can-o-corn
All I had for dinner was a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn, a can-o-corn
Before I went to school, I had a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn, a can-o-corn
I tried to get full off a can-o-corn
A can-o-corn, a can-o-corn
That's all the fuck that we had in the kitchen

A few years later, I pledge allegiance to the set
I'm growin' up, but I ain't grown yet
It's funny how the strain and a life filled with pain
Can sometimes leave a bitch stained on the brain

I'm sittin' in the restaurant, guardin' my food like an eagle
Pickin' up scraps like a seagull
Waitin' on the people at the next table to leave a tip
So I can put it in my pocket

Phony Easter Bunny, Santa Claus and the stork
We was poor as fuck, so we ate a lot of pork
And it ain't no motherfuckin' way no how
When it comes up, I let you bring me down
So I stick to the boots, and I'm down with a mad group
Of gangstas and hoodlums, but you can call 'em scroops

Give me liberty, or give me death
'Cause a man without pride ain't got shit left, huh
And now that I'm older with kids of my own
I put me in the pot where it used to be a bone
Getcha self together, word is born
'Cause a man can't live on a can-o-corn